


Secrets and Conclusions

by Wetislandinthenorthatlantic



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic/pseuds/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft finds a positive pregnancy test in Molly's bin and poor Mycroft keeps waiting for Molly to share the news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SometimesWriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SometimesWriting/gifts).



> I do not own these characters. This work is for entertainment purposes only. 
> 
> No beta -- all errors are mine. This fic was requested AGES ago (sorry!) so I have decided I need to get the first chapter up NOW! I'll fix some things later. Enjoy!

It was late on a Wednesday evening after their weekly take-away when Mycroft excused himself to use the loo, leaving Molly to begin tidying up. 

 

Mycroft's day had been particularly draining due to the unrealistic expectations of the Swiss Trade  
Delegation. Now, to add insult to injury, in addition to the mild headache and pain in his lower back from sitting in the most uncomfortable conference room in the whole of the Foreign Office for five hours today, his allergies were kicking into overdrive. After washing his hands he opened Molly's medicine cabinet, took out the pack of antihistamines, and helped himself to a tiny oval pill. 

While taking a sip of water Mycroft mentaly reviewed the Mediterranean Fishing regulations he was planning to propose tomorrow. The Turks were going to be furious! 

Picking up a tissue to blow his nose he gave a small chuckle to think of the Greek's reaction. Visions of the mess he was about to cause in the northern Med were swirling around his head as he used the foot pedal on the rubbish bin to open it, ready to dispose of his used tissue. 

His life would have continued on as normal had he not spied a pregnancy test stick in the bin. 

Mycroft was frozen-- hand poised over the bin clutching his used tissue. The plastic stick was lying just deep enough that the result window was obscured. 

Had his wits been about him Mycroft would have been able to deduce from the seven used tissues, two ear buds and four cosmetic pads that lay on it-- the test had been done last evening. 

But at this moment all sense had gone, replaced by curiosity. His watched in slow motion as his hand dropped his tissue then continued deeper into the bin to pick the thin stick up. 

He could read the "plus" sign from an arms length away -- why hadn't Molly said anything? 

If Mycroft had been asked earlier in the day to list the worst things that could happen to him -- getting his girlfriend pregnant would have been in his top three. But standing in Molly's loo he had discovered THE worst thing that could ever happen to him-- getting his girlfriend pregnant and her not telling him. 

Replaying the evening in his mind  
Mycroft noted Molly had not seemed like she was keeping something from him. Nor had she insinuated that there would be a surprise for him later. Staring at the positive pregnancy test in his trembling hand, Mycroft's mind began grasping for explanations. 

"Hey, are you okay in there?" Molly's gentle trapping on the door brought him back to reality with a slap. 

"Yes. Yes. Just-- I'll be out in a moment." Quietly chiding himself for missing whatever minuscule hints there might have been about this impending life event Mycroft took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. 

"Remember to look surprised," whispered the dazed Mycroft from the mirror. "Don't ruin what she has planned."

Again Mycroft opened the bin, slipped the test back under a few pieces of rubbish then rewashed his hands. 

// 

Entering the kitchen with the the last remaining items from the table he tried to keep his expression neutral. 

"Oh you're back-- just in time!" Molly had a huge smile on her face as she turned towards the oven. "I've got a surprise for you!" 

Mycroft swallowed hard and braced himself-- expecting Molly to gesture to a bun in the oven. Sure, it was an old cliche but nevertheless a rather clever way of announcing his impending fatherhood. 

The shock Molly saw on Mycroft's face when she turned around was as real as the sticky toffee pudding she held in her oven-mitted hands. 

"After an Indian take away that is a rather strange choice for pudding," Mycroft's face was contorted with confusion. 

"I know- but I had such a craving for it this afternoon. I just couldn't help myself." With a pleased look on her face Molly made her way back to the dining room with a pale Mycroft silently trailing behind. 

The anticipation building in Mycroft was almost debilitating. He was sure she would tell him as they sat down ...  
Nope.  
As they finished dessert ...  
Nadda.  
When he was getting ready to leave ... Nyet. 

Standing at the door about to give Molly a goodnight kiss Mycroft found, even though she hadn't shared THE news, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Molly tonight. 

"I know I never stay over on a weeknight but perhaps I should this evening." He slipped his arms gently around Molly and looked down into her upturned face expecting to see joy at this unexpected offer. 

Instead Molly frowned at him 

"No way!" She scolded. "You have the fishing rights conference tomorrow which means you will be up all night plotting and scheming. Tomorrow I have a full schedule and for some reason I am just exhausted. As soon as you leave I'm crawling into bed." 

Molly raised up on her tip-toes and gave Mycroft a decent kiss that was going nowhere. 

"Out you go! Call me tomorrow and let me know how the conference went. Night sweetie." 

A nanosecond later Mycroft found himself in the hall outside Molly's flat staring at the door that had just closed in his face. 

// 

At just gone 3pm Mycroft was slumped in his chair with a hand over his closed eyes. He heard a gentle rap on the door followed by Anthea's footsteps and the chink of a China tea cup being placed on his desk. 

"I know you don't secure the fishing rights in the Aegean for 15 years but 12 isn't so bad." Peeking from between his fingers he saw a forced smile on Anthea's face. 

"I have your favourite biscuits." From behind her back Anthea produced a small China plates holding three biscuits. 

Taking his hand away front his face and opening his eyes Mycroft let out a deep sigh. 

"A whole sleeve of dark chocolate hobnobs couldn't fix this." 

Anthea slightly swayed and looked a bit frightened. "Oh?" 

"So. What do you think it means when my girlfriend is pregnant but doesn't tell me?" 

Completely caught off guard by Mycroft's frank confession about his personal life, Anthea slowly lowered herself into one of the chairs facing Mycroft's desk. "I think you had better start at the beginning." 

After recounting the previous evenings events silence filled Mycroft's office as the pair contemplated a possible explanation. 

A sickening thought slithered into Mycroft's head causing him to go pale and feel nauscious. 

"You don't think she is planning on--" 

Anthea's expression cycled from confused to shock to horror. 

"Oh! Sir-- ah-- it's Molly so I highly doubt she would--" 

"But she knows I have no interest in children." 

Anthea nodded then responded gently, "She is a doctor. Perhaps she doesn't want to tell you because it is already obvious things are not progressing--"

"Then she needs my support even more urgently. Increase her servalence. If she so much as walks past a doctors office I wish to be informed."

"She works in a hospital." 

Mycroft rubbed his face with both hands as he muttered an expletive under his breath. 

A soft ping came from Anthea's phone. Reading the notification all the colour drained from her face. 

"Sir, Molly has just sent through a schedule update-- she seems to be going away this weekend."

"Clear my schedule Anthea. She is not leaving town without me," responded Mycroft defiantly.


	2. Deduction

Anthea took a deep breath as she pushed open the door to Mycroft’s office. She had news and this was one of the few times in her working life that she didn’t know if it was good or bad.

The usual obsessively tidy, almost empty desk that her boss spent most of his working life seated behind was covered in sheets of paper. From across the room she could make out charts, graphs and pages full of text. Mycroft was hunched over, his gaze flicking over the pages, his hands picking up a single sheet, scanning the contents, replacing it onto a different pile, then moving on to another sheet following the same pattern. It looked as if he was piecing together a jigsaw puzzle.

Off to the side, near his right hand lay an obstetrician's wheel.

“You have finally managed to speak to the surveillance team?” Mycroft’s tone was distant, he was clearly deep in thought.

“Yes sir. I have.” Anthea moved to directly in front of the desk. Mycroft was now busy flicking through his diary comparing it with a chart he had just laid in front of him. She watched silently as he picked up the pregnancy wheel, did a calculation, sighed and crossed out two items on a list found on yet another sheet of paper.

“And?” Finally looking up at her Anthea saw weariness in Mycroft’s eyes. He was very good at shouldering the weight of the world as long as it was “The World” he was concerned about. But she knew from experience any issues involving people he loved, and specifically Molly, were incredibly hard for him to deal with.

“Her Gran’s 75th birthday party is indeed tomorrow.”

Mycroft inhaled sharply and pushed himself back from his desk a look of utter disdain on his face.

“You can not be serious.”

“I am.”

“Any explanation of why this event, which has been 75 years in the making, has only appeared on her schedule today?”

“Apparently she asked for the day off months ago but it wasn’t approved. Now her colleague Arshna’s mother is in town and she is desperate to get out of the house.  Arshna has offered to take Molly’s shift tomorrow.”

“You mean to tell me when I was insisting I would accompany her tomorrow she wasn't lying to scare me off.  She is-- We are-- actually going to her Gran’s 75 birthday party tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“With her whole family.”

“Yes sir.”

“The ‘whole family’ who I have managed to not cross paths with for the last three years.”

“Yes sir.”

Anthea felt a little bit sad for Mycroft as she watched most of the colour drain from his face.

“Perhaps this was the plan all along,” offered Anthea hopefully. “Maybe she is planning to tell you and her family at the same time.”

“To be honest she wasn’t particularly pleased when I told her I was accompanying her.”

Anthea picked up the nearest sheet of paper to her. It was a calendar showing the next 12 months with a few dates circled here and there.

“When was Molly’s birthday?”

“Nearly three months ago.”

“Your anniversary?”

“Five and half weeks ago — the likely date of—“ Mycroft stopped short and Anthea was grateful he shared no further details.

Suddenly Anthea began quietly counting.

“What? What is it?” Mycroft asked nervously.

“Ah! There it is- your birthday — mid-October.”

“My birthday? Why? That is nearly 10 weeks away.”

“That’s it”. With a smile Anthea put the sheet of paper down in front of her boss.

“That’s what?” Mycroft looked utterly confused.

“Molly has found out she is pregnant and has plans to tell her mum tomorrow. She is waiting until she gets the all clear at her 12 week check-up before she tells you. My guess is she feels the news will be the perfect birthday present for the man who has everything and is incredibly difficult to buy for.”

Anthea watched as the last remaining bit of colour drained from Mycroft’s face.

“What-“ was the only word Mycroft could manage.

“I am sure you have read somewhere in this pile,” explained Anthea as she gestured to the mess on her boss’s desk, “—the percentage of pregnancies that have problems that don’t make it past the first few months. I’m sure Molly feels she is doing the right thing keeping the news from you until she knows things are going okay.”

“She is not protecting me. She is killing me. If she thinks I can wait another 10 weeks before she tells me she is carrying my child—“

“Sir, there is nothing you can do but play along.”


	3. Driving

Middle England passed by quickly as the black Jaguar travelled north. Molly sighed and looked out of the car window but made no effort at small talk although Mycroft could feel she was distressed about something. Had he not been driving he might have reached across the car and laid his hand on hers in hopes of providing some comfort.

But considering that the thought of even his most trusted driver in charge of Molly and her- their- precious cargo had made his stomach clench as he readied himself this morning there was no way he was going to take his eyes off the road or either of his hands off the steering wheel.

“I wish I would have worn a different dress.” Molly said quietly staring down at her lap, smoothing her hand over her abdomen. ”This dress makes me look fat.”

She was right. The frock did have a most unflattering cut which did indeed make her look like she was in the glorious first few months of pregnancy; the hint of a bump just appearing. With Anthea’s advice ringing in his ears Mycroft did his best to play along.

“Molly,” his tone was gently scolding. “Stop being ridiculous.” The second half of the sentence “and tell me you are carrying my child.” was added in his mind.

Mycroft fell silent as it dawned on him that perhaps she was much further along than he had first thought. He began to recalculate dates in his mind with the new variable that the test was a confirmation that she was still pregnant not that she had just become pregnant.

A small, “Mycroft” brought him out of his thoughts.

“Yes my dear?”

Molly was fiddling with the edge of her scarf. “Um. About today—” suddenly a cloud of nervousness filled the car.

A mild panic welled up in Mycroft as he feared he was about to be told he was going to be a father while hurtling up the M1.  He steadied his grip on the steering wheel and forced his eyes to stay on the road.

“Thanks for coming with me today. It means a lot. I know you haven't really wanted to meet my family and that’s why I didn’t bother to invite you in the first place.  I'm not sure what has changed your mind. But I'm happy it has. I'm tired of them all thinking I have made you up!” She let out a nervous giggle. “So just— thanks.”

“My pleasure,” was Mycroft’s simple and sincere answer. He continued to follow Anthea’s advice and didn't bother to explain that he found the idea of meeting Molly’s mother while he held a crying newborn significantly more unpalatable than this uncomfortable adventure.

“I feel a bit queasy just thinking about it!”

“Queasy? Why?” He silently groaned as yet another symptom was ticked off on the pregnancy list.

 “You meeting my brother,” gushed Molly. “He is very protective and has hated all of my other boyfriends.

F. U. C. K.  It felt like bucket of ice water had been dropped on him as Mycroft realized that in getting his girlfriend pregnant he had actually knocked-up someone's little sister.

Secretly he wished for his phone to ring-- for an international situation to flare up that would demand his full and undivided attention-- in London not The Midlands. He needed a huge, serious crisis right now.

He was startled as his phone came to life and a female voice filled the car.

“You have reached your destination.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry this chapter is so short -- I hope I made up for it by posting two -- but I had to get them to the party and this seemed like a good place to end this bit. One more chapter, and maybe a post-script, to go. Enjoy!


	4. Arrival

Mustering all of his resolve Mycroft nervously adjusted his shirt cuffs while striding purposefully around the car to open Molly’s door. Deliberately ignoring the twitching of the front window lace curtain he lent down and offered Molly a hand to help her out of the car.

“Remind me of your brother’s name.” The movement at the window had stopped— a feeling of foreboding caused the small hairs on Mycroft’s neck to stand up.

Molly suppressed a chuckle. “You know full well his name is Richard. I am sure your background check revealed he is the youngest senior partner ever in the most prestigious law firm in Manchester— married his University sweetheart-- two children. Odds are your report didn’t tell you mummy loves him more than me.”

Shaking his head gently Mycroft quickly suppressed the urge to kiss his pouting girlfriend and also decided not to make comment about jealous younger siblings. His only reply to this last comment was a knowing smirk as he opened the book to retrieve the elegantly wrapped present. 

“Mycroft-- wait,” Taking a deep breath Molly reached up and smoothed down the lapels of his jacket. “Whatever happens— thanks for being here with me— and good luck.”

A confused frown appeared on Mycroft’s face. “That sounds rather ominous for a grandmother’s birthday party.”

“Yes. Well. I know my family better than you do.”

Suddenly the front door burst open with flurry of loud cheers and greetings. Molly’s mother came charging down the pavement towards them followed closely by Molly’s uncle and a collection of excited cousins.

Startled by the swarm of happy people Mycroft found himself unable to stop from being swept back up the pavement and into the house. Everyone seemed to be: “Thrilled to finally meet him!” “Excited he could spend the day with them!” “Looking forward to getting to know him better!” All of this talking to him at once was making it very difficult to keep track of who was who and who was saying what. His years of receiving lines and formal introductions had left him woefully unprepared for this free-for-all. 

As soon as they managed to cross the threshold it became clear the harmless party was a dangerous minefield for his secretly-pregnant girlfriend — seafood canapes, fresh egg-mayonnaise sandwiches, the selection of unpasteurized cheeses — _and someone had just handed Molly a glass of white wine._

The task ahead was overwhelming. There was no way he was going to able to get Molly through this afternoon safely without some help; Quickly scanning to room Mycroft spied his ally holding court in the corner of the front room-- _Richard_. The men locked eyes and sized each other up as they slowly began to drift towards each other.

Both had on bespoke suits, Italian shoes, and expensive Swiss watches. Mycroft was taller. Richard was thinner. Hands were extended as both reached the middle of the room. A hush fell as the family, who knew how horrible Richard usually acted towards Molly’s boyfriends, watched in anticipation for the show to begin.

The pair, feeling the tension rippling through the room provided nothing more than pleasant banter for the onlookers. Even Molly was surprised at the rational conduct of her brother. Eventually she allowed her Aunt to lure her away from the pair. Disappointed with the lack of fireworks the rest of the room reverted to their original conversations.

Sure they were no longer the focus of attention Mycroft said under his breath, “I need to speak to you in private. It’s urgent.”

Without letting on he had heard the request Richard called over to Molly who, still hadn’t taken a sip of her wine much to Mycroft’s relief, was sitting between her gran and her aunt.

“Hey lazy. Don’t get up. I’m taking him to meet Karen.”

Giving a smile to Molly hoping to reassure her enough she felt no need to accompany him, Mycroft followed Richard deeper into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short -- it seemed like a good place to end. I'm almost done with the next piece-- hang in there!


	5. Scheming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I could have made two short chapter but I put them both together. Also at the top of the second section I did a "Setting" paragraph which I don't think I have ever done but there was no easy way to let you know -- there are only three people in the house at this point.

Alone in the back hallway Richard turned and looked Mycroft directly in the eye.

“Karen is actually upstairs changing the baby. No one can hear us here.” Richard put his hands on his hips, gone was the pleasant facade; Molly’s judgmental big brother had arrived.

Undeterred Mycroft plunged ahead. 

“Let me get straight to the point,” his voice was low and carried no hesitation. “I have reason to believe your sister is carrying my child but for some unknown reason is refusing to admit it to me— perhaps even to herself.”

Regrading Mycroft with contempt and confusion, Richard took a deep breath while Mycroft continued.

“Apologies for my abruptness but I am in need of your help.”

Narrowing his eyes Richard spoke through gritted teeth, “Help? Sounds like you’ve done quite enough already.” 

Mycroft couldn’t blame the venom or the scrutinizing gaze, at least no punches had been thrown— so far.

“Might I remind you, your unborn niece or nephew is sitting within an arm’s reach of a full glass of wine at the moment.”

His posture stiffening suddenly, Richard huffed out his breath with a grunt.

“Shit.”

“My sentiments exactly,” responded Mycroft dryly. 

“Right. What do you need me to do?”

“Five children gives you significantly more experience keeping fetuses from harm than I.”

“What?” Richard screwed up his face in confusion. I have three children.”

“Five. Three with your wife and two by your secretary.”

“Carol? She has two children-- with her husband Craig-- not me.”

Mycroft gave the other man a withering glare and sighed, irritated he had to explain something so obvious. 

“Her husband has been infertile since his hiking accident six years ago.” Richard gulped hard as he quickly processed this new information. 

“Yea. Okay. Fine. I’ll talk to her later. Right now let’s get little sis sorted.” Richard took a deep breath. Mycroft could see the wheels turning in his head. 

“I saw the caterer setting up the food and it’s filled with shellfish, unpasteurized cheese, pate— the soft quail eggs are obviously a no-go and of course there is the alcohol. Just to be on the safe side— let’s assume she can’t eat anything.”

Mycroft saw a small smile tug at Richards mouth before he was clapped roughly on the back. “Congratulations mate. Let’s go protect your little one.”

“Thank you Richard.” For the first time in days Mycroft felt a bit of weight taken off his shoulders.

“She’s a doctor. What is she thinking?” Richard muttered under his breath as he headed back to the front room. 

Mycroft shook his head, “No clue.”

“Yea,” Richard snorted. “She’s always been a bit of an odd one. And trust me, her bring pregnant is not going to make it any better.”

\--

_By all accounts the party was a smashing success. The hours passed quickly and now the guests are gone. Molly’s mother is taking Molly’s Gran home. Molly is tidying up the garden. Mycroft and Richard are jovially chatting as they pick up the party debris— discarded napkins and half-drunk glasses of wine-- in the house._

“The last time I ate a dozen prawns was at a works do when Karen didn’t want her boss to know she was pregnant,” his smile reached his eyes as Richard took a moment to enjoy the memory. “Every time I turned around someone had put another one on her plate. Can't believe history repeated itself.” 

“It feels like I have eaten a kilo of cheese. If I see Brie ever again I very well might throw up,” chuckled Mycroft in response. 

The other man nodded with understanding. 

“Except for the half-glass of wine she had before I knocked it over, we manged to keep them both safe today,” announced Richard proudly as he found another discarded napkin behind the chair in the hall. 

“My sincerest thanks Richard. I could not have done this without you. I shall insist she apologizes for her selfish behavior and thanks you profusely as soon as she comes to terms with her condition.” 

“Good luck," Richard gave a snort as he picked up a plate containing a half-eaten piece of cake. "You are a better man than me if you can get her to do that." 

A muffled cry for help caused both men’s necks to snap towards the back of the house. 

With thundering hearts the pair raced through the house to the back garden where they found Molly lying on the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have almost reached the end. I think there is only one more chapter left.


	6. Reaction

The scent of familiar cologne and a strong hand brushing hair from her face were recognizable even with her eyes still closed. 

Slowly blinking her eyes open Molly was met with a face desperately trying to remain calm. 

“Richard?” What happened?” The weakness of her voice surprised her. Her legs, lying on the ground felt cold. She could already feel a bruise forming on her hip. 

Only inches from her face grass stains were forming on Richard’s trousers; his hand continuing to stroke her head. 

“Don’t move Molls. You will be fine. Just relax for a minute more.” The sincerity in his voice was unsettling.

Standing behind Richard, hands on his hips, struggling to suppress his panic, stood an ashen faced Mycroft tapping on his phone. Finished, his eyes flicked up. 

“Richard, the ambulance will be here in three minutes.” Molly could feel his gaze, deducing every breath and movement she was making. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” taking a deep inhale Molly began to push herself up. “I don’t need an ambulance. I just need to—” The world began to whoosh to black. Frantically clutching her brother's arm her eyes closed as he laid her gently back onto the cool grass. 

“I told you not to get up. Karen fainted a dozen times when she was pregnant; always said it was harder on me than her. The best thing you can do is just lie here.” Molly could feel Richard moving his fingertips around her wrist feeling for her pulse. She pulled her arm away from his grip 

“Stop it! I’m not pregnant Richard. It’s just this stupid dress!”

Richard gave a snort, turned to Mycroft and rolled his eyes. 

“Molly. The ambulance arrives in two minutes. It is time to end this charade.” 

Opening her eyes Molly turned her head towards Mycroft giving him a questioning look.

“I know about the test.” 

“What test?”

“The positive pregnancy test. I saw it in your bathroom rubbish last week.” 

“What? Wait— _Oh!_ **That** pregnancy test.”

Hands jammed into his trouser pockets Mycroft rocked back on his heels looking smug, not saying anything. 

Richard tried to stifle a giggle. " _Typical Molly,"_  he whispered half-to himself. 

“Mycroft, I didn’t take that test.”

“It was in your bin.”

“Yea. But it wasn't mine.” 

Richard’s head was moving between the pair like he was watching a tennis match. 

“Of course it was yours.”

“ **No**. It wasn't.”

"Then whose was it?” Mycroft’s arms were now crossed. 

“Meena’s. She and her wife are trying to have a baby. She was a week late and too excited to wait until she got home.”

Mycroft took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. It was clear there were so many questions tumbling around in his brain, none of them seemed to be able to make it to his mouth. 

“Come on. Help me up.” Molly felt Richard slip his hand under her arm and pull her up gently to sitting. 

“If it was me asking the questions I would ask If you aren’t pregnant, then why did you faint?” interjected Richard who got a very appreciative look from Mycroft. 

Molly looked between the men, “Because you two didn’t let me eat today!”

Like a pair of little boys caught red-handed, the two men dropped their heads in guilt.

Off in the distance a wailing ambulance siren was moving closer.

Richard’s phone rang breaking the tension. After glancing at the screen he muttered to Mycroft as he brought the phone up to his ear, “Sorry mate you’re on your own— Carol,” he said in a loud strong voice as he walked to the bottom of the garden. “It’s Richard. I believe we need to talk.” 

“Help me up,” raising up her hands to Mycroft, Molly allowed herself to be pulled upright and into his waiting arms.

“Come on. Let’s get rid of the ambulance so I can find something to eat. I’m starving.” sighed Molly as she wobbled towards the house.

 


	7. Aftermath

Two Days Later

\--

Opening the door to Molly’s flat Mycroft frowned while hanging up his coat.

_Groans?_

_Panting?_

Rolling his eyes he walked into the sitting room ignoring the noises coming from Molly.

“Thank god you made it—” Molly hissed through gritted teeth.

“I've waited as long as I could.” Her hands were splayed across her tight t-shirt.

Taking a deep breath Mycroft continued to ignore Molly, while picking up a magazine from the side table and plonking himself down on the far side of the sofa.

“I need— to push!” Molly grunted loudly.

Flicking the thin pages with a crack Mycroft didn't even look in her direction.

With a cry of pain Molly swiftly pulled out a sofa pillow from under her top and tossed it at Mycroft— squarely hitting his shoulder. Throwing back her head she let out a great peal of laughter.

“It’s been two days. I’m shocked you are still finding amusement at my expense. Prey tell me when this will cease,” he responded drily.

“Come on Mycroft. Even you have to admit your reaction was a bit extreme.”

“How so?”

“You thought I was keeping a secret and jumped to the conclusion I was pregnant. Given the fact you have made it very clear fatherhood is not for you, you should be more relieved than grumpy that I wasn't. Since you found out the truth you have been sulking and absolutely horrid at work.” Mycroft glared at her.

“Anthea rang. She is very worried about you.”

Taking a deep breath Mycroft stared at this hands. Slowing letting out an exhale he said very quietly, “That is the most distressing part.”

Molly moved closer, laying a hand gently on Mycroft’s arm. “What do you mean?”

“I should have been thrilled to know my worst fears had not been realized but as it turns out—”

“But? But what?” Molly looked at him nervously.

“I had rather gotten used to the idea.” Mycroft's steel blue eyes met hers as his expression softened.

“What? What are you saying?” wide-eyed Molly pulled back from Mycroft.

“I am admitting I have very much changed my mind on the family front.” Slowly Mycroft raised his hand to gently caress Molly’s cheek.

“Oh god look at you! You have become broody!”

“Yes,” huffed Mycroft suppressing a laugh. “I most certainly am.”

“Something tells me Broody Mycroft is going to be even more of a handful than Anti-Family Mycroft!" Nervously Molly began scrambling away from Mycroft as he slowly stalked her across the couch.

“I believe you are correct my dear. Because when I set my mind to something-” His voice had taken on a deep-silky tone. With a lecherous look in his eye he lunged towards Molly-- who was already giggling and moving towards the bed room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is -- The End! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> (P.S -- Yea. Seriously how intense would a broody Mycroft be?! Yikes! I might be feeling another fic coming on if there is interest...)


End file.
